Canvas
by xbaconstripes
Summary: Maya goes on a two-week trip across the country in an attempt to get back to New York for Riley's wedding and to paint various landscapes for her art portfolio. When her credit card number is stolen and she's left stranded in Canada, there is only one person to call. But she'd really rather not call him. [Lucaya road trip. Set after college. Rated T just to be safe.]
1. Prologue

It was one of those rare moments when Riley was interested in talking about something other than her fast-approaching wedding, and Maya was taking full advantage of it.

"I've been planning non-stop since my proposal got approved," Maya was saying. She'd gotten the entire sentence out before realizing her poor choice of words. Riley would usually latch onto anything at all that was wedding-related. Maya assumed that the word "proposal" was too tempting to ignore, but Riley surprised her by making only an appreciative "hmm" sound in response. Feeling more than just a little relieved, Maya clutched the phone tighter in her grip, and hopped off of her bed, narrowly avoiding stepping on Lenny's tail. Her roommate's cat gave her a startled hiss in response before scurrying off. "I can't wait to get started."

Maya could hear Riley moving around, and could just picture her best friend prancing around her New York apartment, carelessly skipping from room to room. Same old Riles.

"That sounds great, Maya!"

If Riley had her back, Maya's plan couldn't be _too_ crazy, right?

She paced around her room, side-stepping piles of clothes and discarded sketches. "I'm not crazy, am I?" Maya couldn't help but voice her concerns, and bit her lip while waiting for Riley's response.

Her friend didn't even hesitate. "No! No, Maya, it's a great idea."

She breathed out a laugh. "It's kind of an expensive one though, don't you think?"

Maya could practically hear Riley considering this. "Well, yeah. But it'll be worth it. Besides, you have a budget, remember? Not a dime over your credit card limit."

Maya hopped across her room and onto the tiny balcony that overlooked Seattle. Well — it overlooked the Belltown area and Blanchard Street, but it was enough. She sat down on the floor, looping her free arm through the metal rails, and let her bare feet swing contently over the edge. "Okay. Yeah, fine. But my credit card limit is three thousand dollars. That's a lot of money."

"So don't spend that much. I still say you're looking at over a thousand dollars for sure."

Maya smiled. "Canadian dollars?"

There was a pause. "Would that be better or worse? I can never remember."

"It would be better." Maya watched the pedestrians walking about below her and suddenly got the urge to paint the scene. Bare feet in motion (she would blur the edges), stories above the city streets below, with the sunset glow illuminating everything. She was getting ahead of herself. "I'll be frugal."

"I'm smiling right now." Riley loved when Maya used big words.

"I figured that you would be."

"I'm glad that you're going to be thrifty, but the most important thing is that you paint, and that you get here on time." Riley's voice increased in volume slightly, and Maya exhaled knowingly. "Seeing as you are going to be the most important person at my wedding. Apart from me, that is."

Maya laughed, and squished her phone in between her ear and her shoulder in order to free both hands and tap them lightly on the metal bar that encircled the balcony. "What about James?"

"Ah, yes. Right. Him too."

"You didn't forget about the groom again, did you?" Maya was teasing of course. Riley couldn't forget James.

"Definitely not. It's just clear that I already consider us to be...er...of one body and soul. Like, you know, I am him, and he is me. So, you know, when I said 'apart from me' earlier, I really meant — "

Maya's laugh interrupted the rest of Riley's rambles, and her friend giggled along with her.

If she closed her eyes, Maya could pretend that they were back in New York, at the Matthews' apartment, in Riley's childhood bedroom. With her best friend's voice in her ear, Maya could transport herself to practically any given time in her history. They'd made some good memories in elementary and high school, but their time at NYU was probably her favourite.

Riley — having been obsessed with the camera Shawn gave her — chose to major in photography. Maya seemed to remember her friend carrying the DSLR _everywhere_ with her, capturing candids of their friends and strangers on the crowded streets.

Over the course of their four years attending NYU, Riley had gone vegan six separate times, dyed her hair once (or twice, if you count dyeing it back to its original colour after getting sick of it two weeks later), pulled 63 all-nighters, and administered a following of over 700 000 people on Instagram. Oh, and she had fallen in love.

Riley had met James during their second year at NYU. She'd forgotten about the copy of _The Negative_ by Ansel Adams that she had borrowed from the campus library. James had needed it for an assignment and had tracked her down in hopes of retrieving it. By the end of the day he had paid her late fees for her. A beautiful story, really.

After earning her degree in photojournalism, Riley had realized that she much preferred taking photographs of people in love. She'd taken her Instagram following and had used them as a platform to build a reputation as a freelance wedding photographer. Riley liked to describe her job as "watching people fall in love over and over again".

Maya had fallen in love too. However, it had not been with James, or any guy for that matter. Maya had fallen even more in love with art and painting. So much so, that when her work at NYU had earned her a spot in one of Seattle's most prestigious Art Academy workshops, she'd jumped at the chance even though it meant being away from home (and from Riley) for almost an entire year. Her time in Washington was almost over, but she was going to be heading back to New York a few weeks early for the wedding. And to build her final portfolio.

She had the whole thing planned out. Sort of. It was summer — there were no more classes to attend, no more nude models, no more waking up early, and definitely no more relaxing until she got her portfolio done. The students got the months of June, July, and half of August to map out their ideas, choose a painting style, buy supplies for, and paint sixteen works of art for their final portfolios.

It was near the end of June now, and Riley's wedding was on July 26th. Maya would continue mapping out her plan, and then had allotted herself two weeks to hightail it from Seattle to New York for her best friend's special day.

Maya had realized long ago that she loved landscapes. _Loved_ them. There was so much information to pull from nature's colours and patterns and skylines and textures. Truly amazing. But she also loved to paint portraits. You could learn so much from a person by painting them up close and personal. Maya got shivers just thinking about it.

She'd had the brilliant idea of painting eight beautiful landscapes and eight portraits of her favourite people. She was hoping to pair them off somehow (in a sort of contrast/comparison), although she hadn't planned that far ahead yet.

Riley had been all for this plan until Maya had told her that she would be taking the Canadian route.

"You know Canada is a larger country than the United States, right?" Riley had asked, only mildly irritatingly.

"Yes," Maya had huffed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Riley had chewed thoughtfully in Maya's ear. "I'm just saying that you're adding countless hours onto your trip, and that you probably won't run into...anybody."

"You're saying that I won't come across _anyone_ during my adventures in Canada?" Maya had demanded teasingly. "I'm pretty sure that Canada's population isn't zero."

"Whatever. You know what I mean. Besides, what's wrong with painting American landscapes?"

"Boring. I've researched cool places to paint in the northern states. Let's just say that Canada's got us beat."

Eventually she'd gotten Riley on board, and now her friend was even more enthusiastic about it than she was, but that was to be expected with Riley.

"I'm excited to see you," Maya said now, watching the sun dip further and further into the horizon.

"Me too!" Maya could hear the smile in Riley's words, and her own lips twitched in response. There was a rustling noise on Riley's end of the phone. "My mom just got here so I have to go. I'm so sorry, Maya. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Say hi to Topanga for me?"

Riley was distracted now, and Maya could hear more than one voice in the background, but her friend answered her with a small laugh. "Of course. She's just as excited about you bussing across Canada as I am."


	2. 18 Days

18 Days Until The Wedding

Maya didn't exactly like goodbyes. In fact she hated them. When she'd had to part from Riley last August, she'd nearly called the whole thing off. She'd stuck it out though, which is why she wondered why she was having such a hard time saying goodbye to her small bedroom.

There was nothing too special about it other than the fact that it had housed her for the past ten months, but she'd really made it her own. Maya had covered every single surface of the walls — they were all white apart from the slab of red brick behind her bed — with her artwork and Riley's photographs. She'd hung incredibly cheesy lantern string lights across the room from the top of the tiny loft — if you could even call it that; Maya's plush beanie-bag and the small second-hand bookshelf that she'd found at the corner of one of the residential streets in Bellevue barely fit on the miniscule ledge — that was adjacent from her balcony. The quaint terrace was probably the room's most valuable asset, seeing as Maya had spent countless hours on it, painting Seattle's skyline with only the constant rain and (occasionally) Lenny for company. She'd painted almost every inch of spectacular Belltown that the view offered her. The balcony overlooked _Top Pot Doughnuts_ (the doughnut shop with the winding staircase and three-story bookcase; it sold delicious goods and closed _way_ too early for Maya's taste). She'd painted it from her peculiar angle last October when its bright orange sign had matched the fallen leaves and her favourite sweater. She had a good view of Pike Place Market, and had painted the space enough times to know that it was the most fun to paint it when the sky was overcast and the obnoxious neon signs made the normally busy streets look like a ghost town in the rain. Her most favourite was Elliott Bay though. The light from the buildings that reflected off of the water at sunset was stunning, and she often wondered how anyone in Capitol Hill could be living without her view.

But it wasn't just her apartment and her view that she'd fallen in love with. She'd become accustomed to Seattle and its constant dampness. She'd grown to appreciate the city at its brightest and at its greyest. Maya often wandered over to Pioneer Square with a sketchpad and an open mind.

She used to consider herself the type of person who got left — not the other way around. Maya didn't like to admit it, but occasionally she still felt that way. Lately, however, she had been the one doing the leaving. She'd always vowed to return to the people and places that were important to her, and she had kept those promises. As of today, slowly but surely, Maya was on her way back home to New York, but she felt as if she were leaving some large part of herself behind in this room and in this city. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't forever, and that she was coming back in less than five weeks to showcase her portfolio and collect her things, but this goodbye felt too permanent for her taste. If she had promised her childhood city that she would come back to it, didn't Seattle deserve the same?

"Are you ready to go?" Becca appeared in the doorway. "Whoa, are you crying?"

Maya turned and eyed her roommate thoughtfully. "I don't think so."

Becca advanced towards her, studying her carefully. "You're right," she observed. "Your face is blotchy and scrunched up but I don't see any tears. So you're all clear."

Maya let out a surprised laugh and tugged on one of the strands of black hair that had escaped Becca's bun and hung around her face. "I'm ready to go."

Becca had agreed to drive Maya the three hours to Vancouver, the first stop on Maya's Canadian adventure. The two girls would spend a few hours together there before parting ways for the rest of the summer. Maya didn't mind giving up some painting time in order to hang out with Becca, and would probably have taken her all the way back to New York if Becca had been up for it. Although it was true that Maya appreciated her friend's company very much, she was — for the most part — using Becca for her car to get into Canada. This had already been established, and her roommate did not seem particularly offended.

Becca grabbed Maya's backpack and walked out into the kitchen. Maya took one last look at her room before joining her friend.

"Is this all you're bringing with you?" Becca asked, moving her head to indicate the backpack that was slung on her left shoulder and the one duffel bag that Maya was carrying.

"Yeah," Maya said, frowning slightly. "I had to travel light if I was going to make this work. I couldn't exactly bring an entire art studio with me. I'm going to be on a bus most of the time."

Becca looked sympathetic, and then her brown eyes widened as if she were considering something for the first time. "There's no way that you fit sixteen canvases in this backpack."

Maya crossed the kitchen and opened the apartment door, gesturing for Becca to follow her. "You're right, but have no fear. 'The world is but a canvas to our imagination'."

Becca switched off the light and slammed the door behind them before Maya could take one last lingering look at the inside of their small apartment. Her backpack swung across Becca's shoulder blades as the taller girl began descending the twelve flights of stairs two steps at a time. The elevator was broken again. Maya twirled her keychain twice around her index finger before fitting it into the latch and securing the lock. She then hurried to keep up.

"And who would that be?" Becca's voice echoed from down below.

"Henry David Thoreau." Maya's response floated up into the stairwell and she quickly left it behind with each descending step.

The two girls headed for the ground floor in silence, and when they reached their destination, Becca plucked Maya's duffel out of her small hands.

"Okay, but," Becca said, swinging the bag over her free shoulder. "What are you going to paint on?"

After being relieved from the weight of her duffel, Maya straightened up and reached into Becca's pocket for the car keys. "I'm bringing cartridge paper with me."

"Ah," her roommate said appreciatively. "I see."

"I put my easel in your trunk a few days ago. The paper is in there too." Maya squinted and put a hand over her eyes to block out some of the sun. "Where did you park the car?"

Becca's flip-flops were already smacking the pavement ahead of her. "On 5th near Hotel Five."

Maya once again found herself struggling to keep up with her roommate. It was impressive, really. Sure Becca's legs were longer, but she was also carrying everything.

Living with Becca hadn't exactly been fate. It was more like clever and manipulated happenstance. Maya had been lucky enough to have been introduced to Becca through Smackle. They were cousins, or nearly that.

After she'd been offered a spot in the eight month program, Maya had been sitting on Riley's couch and sharing her concerns with her best friend about moving to a different city and either living alone or with a stranger. James had been in the kitchen making them a stir-fry and whistling along to a Dean Martin song. When Maya had left after dinner, she'd thought that her friends had only listened to her complaints like good friends should. She didn't really think that there was much that could be done about it. But Riley had her ways, and Maya had gotten a text from Smackle only two days later.

Maya liked having Becca as a roommate. She kept everything mostly tidy (although Maya couldn't say the same about herself), she rarely ever had other friends over, and she was nice and loud but in a good way. She also never brought up the fact that Maya never seemed to be interested in anything but exploring the city, ordering takeout, and painting. She was sure that Becca wondered, and might even have been worried on Maya's behalf, but was polite enough not to say anything. Unlike Riley, who was never afraid to get real and intense in a matter of seconds, even over the phone.

Becca also came with numerous perks. The best one was — obviously — the car, which she let Maya drive so long as the tank was filled afterwards. But Becca also worked at the tiny rundown theatre — that was, for some inexplicable reason, busy most of the time — four streets over, and would take Maya to see any new releases that she wanted to watch for free. They would snack on the unlimited free popcorn and — if Becca was feeling particularly reckless — candies that were (technically) supposed to be paid for. If that wasn't enough, Becca was also from Gold Bar, a small (and beautiful) town about an hour away from the city. Maya would have the apartment to herself for the few days a month when Becca left to visit home, and this was usually when her creativity ran the most wild and free. The best part about hanging out with Becca, though, was that she was _gorgeous_. She was tall, fit, had blue-black hair that went halfway down her back, and sharp features that were hard to ignore. Maya had gotten used to doing everything that she could to conceal her own beauty in order to avoid unnecessary (or any) attention, and being with Becca usually meant that she could relax. People's stares often went to the tall girl first, and rarely moved past her to ever fixate on the shorter one that accompanied her. Maya wouldn't have had it any other way. She'd already admitted to herself that she used Becca as some kind of shield, and she didn't feel guilty about it anymore. It was for the best. You had to have your strongest in front, and Becca could handle it. If Maya tried to step forward and play defence, she doubted that she could manage to protect herself, let alone the both of them like Becca did. Although her roommate was most likely completely unaware of this.

Maya tried to tell herself that she'd gone soft when she'd gotten more in touch with her inner artist, being trained to see the beauty and gentleness in everything, but she knew that wasn't it. Besides, she noted, perking up, she continued to be her spunky self when in contact with her New York friends. Sort of.

Her thoughts were cut short when she spotted two girls playing outside of _Velo_ , the bicycle shop on the corner of 6th Avenue. They were obviously sisters, but not twins. The one in pigtails — the younger one — was sitting side-saddle atop one of the bikes on display outside, and the older one was feeding her vanilla ice cream from a cone. It was dripping down her chin, and they both started to laugh. Maya considered taking out her phone to snap a picture of them. She did that occasionally when she wanted to paint something that was fleeting and impermanent. Then, when she had time and if she was still inspired, she would paint using both the photo and her memory. Maya knew that she would most likely be using this tactic on the road if she wanted to keep up with her "schedule".

She felt around her pockets for her phone, and then frowned when she realized that the lighting wasn't quite right. She would have taken the photo with her good camera — a gift from Riley — instead, but it was in her backpack. The girls hopped off of the bikes and ran off, her opportunity gone.

A hand grabbed ahold of hers and began pulling her forward.

"You can't paint _everything_ ," Becca said firmly. "What will you do when I leave you in Vancouver? I'll be expecting a call from Riley saying that you didn't make it to the wedding because you were standing still on the sidewalk staring at nothing in Canada somewhere."

Maya smiled at this because it was so far from the truth. Nothing would stop her from getting to her best friend's wedding. They'd been talking about it since they were little. Besides, she hadn't been staring at nothing. But the other girl did have a point.

She let Becca pull her along. Now her roommate was literally carrying _everything_ — including Maya — as usual.

* * *

Becca's blue 2009 Toyota Camry had inevitably seen better days. It was, after all, over ten years old, but it would do the trick. It most likely would not have been able to handle her entire escapade, but it had enough strength to get to Vancouver and back.

Her roommate had once stated that she didn't believe in vehicular air conditioning, which seemed believable enough considering the fact that Seattle rarely saw a month's worth of weather over 80 degrees every year. But Maya had discovered on her own that the car's AC didn't even work anymore, which made her question the legitimacy of Becca's claim.

Nevertheless, all four windows were down as they sped up Interstate 5. The hair that had escaped from Becca's bun flew around her face as she sang along to Steppenwolf's "Magic Carpet Ride". Maya took turns watching her friend and looking out the window. She'd taken her camera out of the backpack and put it in her lap just in case. The other cars and parallel highways weren't much to look at though, and Maya willingly clicked the camera off, having given up on spotting a potential photo op.

Becca turned the music down when the song ended. "So," she began, and signaled before switching lanes, "you travelled light."

Maya smirked. "Haven't we covered this?"

Her roommate glanced over at her quickly before turning her attention back to the road. "What did you bring?"

Maya brought up a mental list of what she had packed in her mind and began to check things off. "Six shirts, two sweaters, four pairs of jeans, and one pair of track pants." She had to practically yell over the sound of the wind whipping through the car. Her hair was flying frantically around her face, and Maya removed a few strands from the corner of her mouth before continuing. "A comfortable shirt to wear to bed, pyjama shorts, a toothbrush, my phone, my camera. You know, the necessities."

Becca was looking at her expectantly. "Anything else?"

"Do you want to know how much underwear that I packed?"

Her roommate reached over and swatted her lightly on the arm. "Your passport? How much paint did you bring?"

"A small travelling set that has all of the colours that I'll need, and," she slipped the elastic that was around her wrist off and began tying up her hair, " _of course_ I brought my passport! You can't exactly get into another country without it."

"Good, because I would have left your ass at the border and gone over myself if you had forgotten to bring it." Maya laughed at that. "You're buying us dinner, right? How much money did you take with you?"

"I'm using my credit card for everything, but I converted some cash too. I have about two hundred in their dollars."

"But you _are_ buying us dinner, right?"

Maya heard the intro to "Born To Be Wild" start, and turned up the radio volume before replying. "Well since you asked nicely."

They were passing over Lake Union now, and Maya stuck her head halfway out of the open window, taking a breath of the cooler air. Becca was laughing at her. "I'm driving you three hours into a different country. I'll be expecting some kind of Canadian delicacy with my name on it."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I love this story! I think about it a lot when I'm out and about, and I'm like 90% sure that I've got the entire plot figured out already. Unlike my Auslly fanfic. RIP that story. I may get back to it one day, but that's probably a lie.**

 **But this one is my new child! I'm moving really soon, so I might not be able to post updates for a bit, but I will definitely be working on this whenever I can.**

 **Sorry if Maya seems a bit OOC. I sort of delved into it in this chapter, but I'll elaborate in future chapters. BTW, just because the trip is going to be 18 days long, that doesn't mean that this fic is going to be 18 chapters long. I haven't exactly figured out how long it's going to be yet.**

 **Also, did I romanticize Seattle? ...yes. A lot of the places that I mentioned are legit (even** _ **Blanchard St.**_ **! that was totally unintentional BTW. it was just where I wanted Maya to be living), but I sort of reorganized their placements in the city. Although** _ **Velo**_ **is really at the corner of Blanchard and 6th.**

 **I hope that some people actually read this, because I'm proud of how it's turning out so far. Thank you to the two people who posted reviews for the prologue! It meant a lot.**

 **PS: I based Becca off of a character from one of my favourite YA book series. I'm not sure if it's obvious or not, but if you have any guesses, feel free to post in the reviews who you think that it might be!**

 **Thanks,  
**

 **-Lia**


	3. Vancouver

18 Days Until The Wedding

They'd opted for crossing through Peace Arch because Maya had wanted to see it up close. Becca had fought to take the Pacific Highway towards the commercial route for trucks — there was less traffic and it had duty-free shopping — but Maya had insisted. In the end they'd had to wait a half an hour to cross over the border, but Maya definitely thought that it was worth it to get pictures of the great white arch. She was very pleased with the outcome, and was happy to have escaped with only an eye-roll from Becca.

After the border, there had been barely any time to register their new surroundings before they were surrounded by farmland. Most of the drive was on BC-99, and — although the drive to the city was barely an hour and a half away from the border — Maya felt as though she had travelled through several worlds in that time. They'd driven past green patches of forest, over rolling hills and several bodies of water — even two "islands" when they drove across Fraser River and False Creek — before finally reaching Vancouver.

The city itself was an island, with water surrounding almost every side. Maya had once read somewhere online that Vancouver was an "urban playground in the heart of nature" and could not have agreed more. She'd seen photos of the city from a sky view, and it looked like a metropolis floating on a raft in an ocean surrounded by mountains. If she'd been able to get her hands on a levitating platform, that's definitely what she would have decided to paint.

Maya had already planned where and what she was going to paint in Vancouver. She'd done some research back home before they'd left, and had decided on something ahead of time so as not to wander around aimlessly for hours and get no work done. Maya had only thoroughly planned for her first stop though, because she wanted something to do during her downtime. Her next stop was Calgary, and that was a thirteen hour bus ride away. She figured that there was going to be _lots_ of free time on the bus. Luckily she'd thought ahead enough to download the entirety of _Friends_ onto her phone as well.

Maya tried not to think about her future travels as she perused the streets of the city with Becca. They'd dropped off her things at The Buchan Hotel where she was staying and were currently looking for a place to eat. It was only just after four and Becca was already trying to cash in her free meal coupon.

They were walking down Granville Street which — according to Google Maps — was the "downtown" of Vancouver. It was almost like a strip, and each side of the street contained familiar fast food chains and retail stores. Becca kept changing her mind about what she wanted to eat and had nearly decided on Five Guys quite a few times.

Maya's roommate was several paces ahead and was expertly side-stepping other pedestrians who were headed in the opposite direction. It was as if, Maya thought with a smile, Becca knew exactly where she was going. It was in Becca's character to always walk with a purpose, and Maya often envied the determined set of Becca's shoulders and the other girl's confident strides. Maya knew that she had once similarly stomped through life. Not only was it a side-effect of growing up in New York, but it was also due to her upbringing. She'd often had to mask her sensitivity and pain with indifference and — sometimes — recklessness. Maya had been like fire back then; fast and bright. Her fear had pushed her to take every risk and hope for nothing. Now, though, the only risks that she took were for her art. Maya often shied away from anything that could bring any consequences she wasn't particularly prepared to deal with. It wasn't so bad, really. It gave her more time to focus on what she liked best, and protected her from any harm — physical or otherwise. The difference that had always existed between the two girls was that where Maya's strength and boldness had been real, her self-assurance had almost always been a pretense. Becca's confidence, however, was unquestionably legitimate and Maya had yet to see it falter.

She watched her roommate now, weaving her way through groups of people and enthusiastically eyeing their new surroundings. Becca had let her hair down and had already started attracting attention from the unprepared Canadians. Maya should have readied her neighbours to the north before ambushing them with a stunning Washington native. She'd forgotten that some people were not equipped to handle Becca.

Maya caught up with her friend at the next light. Becca was stopped in preparation to cross the street once it was clear, and when Maya bumped her shoulder, she turned and smiled.

"Did you know," Becca said, and her eyes were following a yellow car that was trudging past, "that you only have to be nineteen to legally drink in Canada?"

Maya had been able to legally purchase alcohol back home for almost two years now, and hadn't really thought about the Canadian drinking age for some time. "Yeah, I knew that."

Becca started forward when the light changed. "I drove across the border with some of my friends on my nineteenth and got pretty drunk," she admitted. "It was a lot of fun. You should party it up with some teenagers when I'm gone."

Maya scoffed at that before wiping some sweat from her brow. "Like that'll happen."

"I'm serious." Becca looked over her shoulder to where Maya had fallen behind again. "You should make the most of this trip."

Maya nearly stumbled, and she looked around uncomfortably. "I will," she insisted, and Becca turned to look ahead again. "I am going to be making the most of it by doing what I said that I was going to do — paint beautiful Canadian landscapes."

Becca didn't press the issue, and when Maya was close enough to see her friend's face again, she was surprised to see an almost sad expression. "I'm going to miss you and your aloofness and your perfect eyebrows."

Maya laughed.

* * *

Becca had cried when she'd left. It had been brief, with only two tears escaping, but it had happened. If Maya could be proud of anything, it was that she didn't cry anymore. But she did feel the absence of her friend like a weight pressing against her chest, and — like always — Maya decided to focus on painting in order to relieve herself of any negative emotion.

British-Columbia was beautiful. Maya could've spent months touring the province and painting whatever her heart desired. Although she'd chosen Vancouver for its uniqueness, she'd also factored in the convenience of its location in relation to Seattle. There were so many other places in BC that she wanted to visit. In fact, when she'd first Google Image searched Victoria — a city three hours and a ferry ride away — she'd been floored by its beauty. Maya also wanted to visit Whistler. It was less than two hours from Vancouver and there was no need to take a ferry, but an impromptu trip there didn't quite fit in with her plans. And, at that moment, her plans consisted of strolling through Stanley Park along the Seawall.

While researching beautiful areas in or around the city, Maya had come across a stunning image of Vancouver's Lions Gate Bridge at sunset. The bridge split Vancouver Harbour and the English Bay while connecting Vancouver Island to the rest of BC. Its design and purpose reminded Maya of the Brooklyn Bridge back home. What she liked about the particular photo that she'd seen of it, though, was that you could see both city lights and mountains beyond the water's edge. Maya liked the idea of being able to capture the beauty of nature _and_ the city in one image.

It hadn't taken long for Maya to figure out that the photo had been taken from the Seawall in Stanley Park. Since mountains were visible in the background, she'd also concluded that the photographer had been standing to the left of the bridge when they'd taken the picture. Maya wanted to find the exact spot in order to match the angle from the photograph and didn't mind strolling along the Seawall until she happened upon it.

The waterfront path was the most popular recreational spot in the city, and Maya assumed that it would have been busier had it not been close to dinnertime. She still had to avoid some joggers and cyclists, but the path was mostly clear, and Maya wasn't too worried about settling in to paint once she found her spot.

She let her gaze wander while her body moved on auto-pilot. Maya had quickly headed for the Seawall once she'd gotten to the park for no other reason but to stop herself from growing attached to the green oasis and forgetting that she was on a strict schedule. But now that she was headed in the right direction, she allowed herself to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

The water that lapped up against the wall below her was surprisingly calm and still. Maya thought that she was very lucky indeed, as it would be easier to paint any reflections that way. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and the sun was barely grazing the surface of the horizon, only teasing sunset. Maya tried not to worry about racing with time and losing the beautiful light that would accompany sundown. She had her camera with her and would take a photo for future reference when the sky was perfect. If that wasn't enough, she'd paid for two nights at the hotel, and would extend her stay if she thought that she needed more time. Although Riley's wedding was fast approaching, Maya had purposely given herself some wiggle room so that she wouldn't feel too pressured to rush her art. She didn't necessarily have to finish her work on the road either. There was no average time set on how long it took to complete a painting, and Maya knew that she'd be adding finishing touches to each of her works until she was content, no matter how close to the deadline that ended up being.

As soon as her brain fell for the painting trap she'd set up, Maya felt the stiffness in her shoulders loosen. She felt more relaxed than she had not even five minutes earlier, and once she freed herself from any unwanted thoughts, the numbness that followed allowed her to walk the Seawall in a pleasant daze.

Maya never forgot what she was looking for, but was so lost in thought that the bridge snuck up on her; she stopped in her tracks when she realized that she was standing exactly in the right spot.

Since it was nearly sundown, the bridge lights had been turned on. The sky wasn't dark enough for the lights to reflect off of the harbour quite yet, but Maya knew that she didn't have much time to set up before the sun would start melting away behind the mountains. Maya allowed herself to simply stare for a few moments, painting the bridge in her mind at a pace similar to time-lapse videos. Once she knew that she was ready to start, she felt the usual excited sensation in her stomach that always accompanied a new project.

Maya expertly and almost robotically unpacked and laid out her art supplies before frowning when she realized that the seating options were very limited. But she knew that she would barely notice her physical surroundings once she began to paint, and settled for the ground.

When she lifted her gaze back to the bridge, she noticed that the sun was lower in the sky, and that the light that was cast on the water was nearly ideal. Although she would soon have to take out her camera and immortalize the scene, she drew in a breath and raised her brush first.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **You must all know that I'm very sorry for the long overdue update on this story. I mentioned last time that I was going to be moving, and now that I'm semi settled in, MAYBE (I don't make promises that I can't keep lol) this story will be updated more frequently. That being said, I went through a bout of writer's block with the last few paragraphs of this update. I know that you all want Lucaya to start (believe me — I do too), but I want this story to progress naturally, and I feel like throwing Lucas into the mix too soon wouldn't be quite right. Besides, I know exactly how he will make his debut. In fact, SPOILER, his first line is "I've made an executive decision". Have no fear though! Lucas will not be in the next chapter (don't worry — it's a short one),** _ **but**_ **he will be in the one after that. I'm re-reading a book that I read years ago about a road trip to help give me some more ideas. I basically already know the plot of this story, but I still need to piece all of that together with some scenes that I haven't come up with yet. Thank you SO much to everyone who has reviewed so far. I know that this story isn't as popular as my other one was, but I get the feeling that people will start to like Canvas once I get the ball rolling.**

 **PS: I'm** _ **so**_ **bad. I already have another idea for a Lucaya story LOL. Don't worry. I'll focus on this one first.**

 **Thank you!**

 **-Lia**


	4. 15 Days

15 Days Until The Wedding

Although the Internet had told her that covering the distance from Vancouver to Calgary would take thirteen hours, the Greyhound that transported Maya between the two cities was on the road for just over sixteen. She wasn't sure whether or not to consider the trip a success seeing as — despite the fact that she'd dozed enough en route that she didn't have to waste the day catching up on sleep — she hadn't yet decided on what it was that she wanted to paint. Wi-Fi connectivity had been provided on the bus, so Maya had been able to research some pretty areas within the general vicinity of her second stop. The problem wasn't that she'd come up short; it was that Maya was having trouble choosing between her top three favourites.

She'd initially decided on Peace Bridge because she loved the controversy that surrounded its price to the city — totally contradicting the name it had been given. Maya was also intrigued by the bridge's modern beauty. It had been built in 2012 and was already one of the most photographed spots in the entire area. If that wasn't enough, the bright red of the structure against the green Bow River and Calgary's blue downtown skyline was especially tempting. However, despite the fact that Peace Bridge was entirely unlike the one that she'd just painted — architecture aside, it served a totally different purpose as it had been built specifically for pedestrian commuters — Maya was afraid that her portfolio was becoming too bridge-centred, and had searched for other possible locations.

Simply because she loved a challenge, Maya had instantly fallen for the Rundle Ruins. Although the ruins were a popular spot for wedding photos, the almost random scatter of Calgary's second oldest hospital's remains often disinterested locals and tourists. From the images that Maya had seen online, she'd come to the conclusion that without a bride and groom gazing into each other's eyes in front of the sandstone formations, it would be very difficult to romanticize the space. Only a few of the photos that she'd come across had been able to capture the beauty of the ruins, and Maya knew that she could bring love and brightness to the remains if she got the chance.

Her mind had been made up when she'd stumbled upon images of Stephen Avenue. Dubbed a pedestrian mall, the popular strip looked like Paris' Champs-Élysées in the right lighting. The road was surrounded by skyscrapers and lined with unique sculptures — truly a piece of art in itself. Maya was a sucker for beautiful city streets, and the avenue's old-fashioned architecture mixed with the modern decor made her fingers itch to paint. She worried, though, about how busy the area would be and whether it would even be possible to settle in to paint on the crowded walkways.

Maya kept weighing the pros and cons of each option as she lugged her duffel from hotel to hotel. She'd thought that she could call hotels a day early, or even just walk into one and check in. Maya hadn't booked her stays ahead of time because she wasn't sure how long each painting would take to complete before she moved on. Although that was what was best for her art, she hadn't taken special circumstances into consideration.

Maya had been surprised to find her Greyhound bus completely packed when she'd gotten onto it at six o'clock the previous night. At first she'd chalked Calgary up to be a popular weekend getaway destination, but then she'd overheard many people talking about the "Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth". Apparently she'd picked the opening weekend of some popular outdoor festival to visit the city. That would have been good and well if it didn't also mean that a few thousand other people were visiting Calgary too, and that said people had planned ahead and booked their hotel rooms online weeks in advance.

Maya had lucked out with The Buchan in Vancouver. She'd been less than a twenty-minute walk from Stanley Park there, but that was only one of the reasons why she'd chosen it. Despite its fancy name, The Buchan was reasonably priced and, although her room decor had been very modern, its exterior was classically beautiful.

Now, though, since Maya still wasn't sure what it was that she wanted to paint, she'd simply settled for trying her luck with hotels near the bus station. So far, she'd been turned away from four.

Maya's bag bounced painfully off of her left thigh with each step, and she began to wonder how long she'd been walking. Crossing the street to sit on a bench, she lifted her duffel's strap up over her head, wincing when the material rubbed the back of her damp neck. It wasn't particularly hot out, but carrying all of her things everywhere was starting to take its toll.

She'd told herself for years that she was getting better at not thinking that everything good in her life went wrong, but Maya was starting to feel the dark cloud circling overhead again. Vancouver had been everything that she'd wanted — on her downtime she'd explored the island, splurged on both expensive food and cheap hidden delicacies, and had even bought a souvenir BC t-shirt for Farkle from a small shop a few blocks from The Buchan. But now she could see her long trip stretched out ahead of her as though it were years instead of days. How many other unforeseen events would throw a wrench in her plans?

Maya took a deep breath in an attempt to clear her head. She observed that the tang of metal didn't hang in the air here like it did in New York — she'd noticed that in Vancouver too. Despite the fact that both Vancouver and Calgary were big cities, it was as though they'd been dropped randomly in the middle of patches of emerald and high peaks. From a bird's eye view (and Google Earth) Calgary looked like someone had spilled a small spot of bleach on a green blanket, and — apart from Edmonton — Alberta didn't have much else to offer city-wise. It did, however, have a lot to offer in terms of outdoor activities and farmland.

For reasons that Maya didn't usually like to disclose, she knew a lot more about Alberta than she did any other province; she'd actually been to Calgary before — once. Because of this, she knew that Alberta was Canada's own version of the country. Just with no southern accents. The province was — because apparently Canadians only associated the USA with hicks and republicans — the most like America in that some people walked around in cowboy boots and were right-winged.

Maya never would have guessed that, though, from the skyscrapers that lined the streets and the traffic that filled them. The city was anything if not completely fresh and modern — even its transportation system was totally unconventional. Where New York had an underground subway and Vancouver had their skytrain, Calgary had a light railway — which commuters got to ride _for free_ — that ran entirely on energy generated by windfarms. If Maya had known her way around more, she would definitely have opted for free transportation to trekking through the entire city.

With a sigh, she gathered her things from the bench and continued her search. She probably wasn't too far from the Peace Bridge now, and she was considering just hauling everything over there when a University of Calgary building came into view.

Tensing, Maya couldn't help but think that it was intentionally made to look intimidating. The tall structure was so dark that it was almost black, and it proudly adorned the terrifying U of C coat of arms that featured a menacing black bull with scarlet horns and a villainous expression. The building was unfamiliar to her because it was one of the few at the downtown campus rather than the central one, but it still made her uneasy. Swallowing, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up despite the heat, and she swiveled around to make sure that no one was watching her.

Maya's sudden movement caused her to abruptly shoulder the woman who'd been walking behind her. Before Maya could even open her mouth, the stranger let out a surprised "Sorry!" and smiled even though they hadn't done anything wrong. Canadians.

After the woman scurried off, Maya pried her eyes from the school building and was surprised to see a hotel almost directly across the street. The prospect of being able to put her bags down suddenly made them feel ten times lighter, and Maya's pace doubled as she made her way over to the glass doors.

The air-conditioning felt like getting hit by a blessedly cold train, but she almost walked right back out when she saw how full the lobby of The Sandman was. Squaring her shoulders and daring to hope for the best, Maya bravely wandered over to the check-in desk. The woman who greeted her seemed friendly despite clearly being flustered, and Maya was given a quick smile when she approached.

"Hi!" The woman — Rachel, according to her nametag — clicked a phone back into the receiver and eyed Maya's somewhat disheveled state. "Can I help you?"

It seemed hopeless, but she'd said it enough times that by now the words tumbled out of her mouth without her consent. "Yes. I was wondering if I would be able to book a room for two nights?"

When Rachel frowned, Maya's heart fell. "I'm sorry, hon."

"Oh." Maya shifted her weight a little and hitched her backpack into a more secure position. "That's okay. No problem."

The older woman's fingers began clicking away on the keyboard that rested in front of her. "Hang on, I'll check for you just to make sure." The typing stopped and she leaned in like she was going to tell Maya a secret. "It's just that it's the first weekend of the stampede."

When Maya didn't answer, Rachel straightened up and continued typing. "But, of course, you probably already knew that. It's only the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth."

Maya wasn't sure if she should confide in Rachel that, no, she didn't know that, or if she should just smile and play along. Before she could decide, the receptionist clapped her hands excitedly and turned the desktop screen towards Maya.

"Here!" Rachel tapped a nail on the screen but swiveled it back around before Maya could see what it said. "We have a room for tonight available right now, but you'll have to check out before noon tomorrow."

If she said yes, she'd have to search all over again for another place to sleep tomorrow unless she really rushed her painting, but if she said no, then she might not even find another hotel _tonight_.

Maya barely missed a beat. "That's perfect."

* * *

"James sends his love." Maya could hear some cooking show on in the background, so she knew that she had her best friend's full attention. Riley didn't cook. "He's making us empanadas for dinner."

"Nice," Maya said, simply enjoying the sound of the other girl's voice. "So how is everyone?"

Riley sighed on the other end of the phone, the only indication of her stress. "Fine, I suppose. My mom keeps asking me if I'm getting cold feet."

"Are you?" James interjected from somewhere in the distance, and Maya heard a small scuffle before Riley's voice returned.

"And Farkle is _still_ making passive-aggressive comments about how he's not the best man — I keep telling him that James has a brother but apparently that's not a good enough excuse."

Maya laughed at that and reclined on her hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling and pulling the phone cord even further from its spot on the wall. "Do you miss me?"

"Of course." Riley had already answered before Maya finished her sentence. "But I've _been_ missing you since you visited for Christmas."

"Yeah, well." Maya wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, and she half rolled over, smushing her nose into the pillow. "How are _you_ holding up?"

"Aside from all the wedding stuff? I'm great. But Maya you have no idea how hard it is to plan something like this in New York City." Riley paused and Maya braced herself for what was coming. " _Especially_ without your best friend."

Maya stayed silent until Riley recanted. It didn't take long.

"Oh, you know that I love you," her friend assured her. "I'm just stressed about this whole thing. I can't wait for it to be over."

"Hey!" Maya smiled to herself when James' voice returned.

"It's only so that I can be married to you that much sooner," Riley called to her fiance before continuing. "Are you going to be here for the rehearsal dinner?"

Maya bit her lip and tapped the phone with her finger. "I'll try, but I don't think so."

To her surprise, Riley didn't reach through the telephone and strangle her. "That's alright. I figured as much. You won't really be missing anything. Hopefully my dad gets out all of his tears when he does his practice speech."

"Mr. Matthews will cry at your wedding — it's inevitable." She still couldn't call him Cory; old habits died hard.

"I worry about you a lot," Riley said, almost out of nowhere. "Not the usual stuff," she added quickly. "But you're travelling by yourself in a different country — "

" — and you need me to be alive at your wedding, I know. You've been watching too much Law and Order: SVU."

"That I have," Riley agreed, unashamed.

Maya sat up and glanced out the window. "That show is based in New York City, though."

"And?"

"And I'm in Canada. Nothing bad happens here."

* * *

Maya went to bed very frustrated. She'd spent the entire day out and about, scoping her potential locations and had found something wrong with all of them. Peace Bridge, though very beautiful, had seemed like too much of an obvious choice. There were many unique things about its structure, but nothing original about her near decision to paint it. The Rundle Ruins were almost too complicated to paint in such a limited amount of time, and Maya felt as though she wouldn't have been able to do them justice in only a few days. And Stephen Avenue had been — as she'd predicted — far too busy for her to paint in the middle of the afternoon when the lighting was just right.

To make matters worse, she'd started to see more and more people in cowboy hats spring seemingly out of nowhere. She blamed the alleged stampede for their sudden arrival, and wondered how it was that out of all of the festivals in Calgary, she just so happened to show up for this.

Cursing herself for trying to be spontaneous for the first time in years, Maya decided that she'd figure out every last detail of her trip tomorrow before she got back on the road. Well, after she managed to find another hotel, that is.

She should have known that Calgary would betray her like this — nothing good ever happened in Calgary. She didn't care that it had been dubbed the best place to live on earth in 2007 or that it was an achingly beautiful city.

Maya almost considered foregoing finding a new hotel and skipping town the next day, but then she'd just have to find a new location that was consistent with her travels, and that seemed like a waste of time. She feared, though, that she was running out of time to figure out what it was that she wanted to do. Maybe she'd ask Rachel if she knew of any prime painting locations on her way out.

Her room was dark and quiet, so when her stomach rumbled loudly, it sounded like an explosion. Frowning, Maya realized that she'd been so preoccupied with her mission that she hadn't had anything to eat since one of the bus rest stops nearly ten hours ago.

But she wanted to get to bed early so as to get a head start tomorrow, so she decided to stay in bed and wait for her complimentary breakfast in the morning.

* * *

Nuvo Hotel was squished in between a chiropractor's office and a Liquor Barn. Also, unlike The Sandman, it was no taller than an elementary school building. Maya wasn't complaining though. Along with the knowledge that they for sure had a room available — she'd checked online — it had only taken her eight minutes to walk from her other hotel, and Nuvo had good online ratings. It wasn't the fact that she was setting up camp somewhere new that upset her, it was that she still had no idea what she was going to do afterwards.

After spending a few minutes trying to find the location of the entrance, Maya pushed her way into the hotel lobby. She'd called ahead of time and had spoken on the phone with a woman named Alice. It didn't matter — they would all be Rachel to her now.

As she neared the front desk, Alice looked up at her. "Are you Ms. Hart?"

Maya eyed the clock above the receptionist's head. If she spent twenty minutes in the room getting settled in, then she'd have about eight hours to scope out a location and paint before the sun went down. She'd said that she only needed the room for one night, but now she was considering asking for two. She'd wasted the entire day yesterday, and hadn't painted a single thing. Still — if she didn't move on soon then she'd just be racing with time to get back home. This was _exactly_ what she'd been trying to avoid.

"Miss?" Alice's voice interrupted Maya's thoughts.

"I'm sorry?"

Alice didn't look irritated, only a little confused. "You're Maya Hart, right? We spoke on the phone a half hour ago."

"Yes." Maya drew the word out in an attempt to buy time while she returned to reality. "Yes, that's me."

Alice stood up and wiped her palms on her thighs before opening a drawer. "The room is ready — I have your key here." She produced a swipe key from the desk but kept it in her hand. "I just have to run your credit card first."

"Of course." Maya fumbled for the front pocket of her backpack, flushing when it took her a few attempts to retrieve what she was looking for. "Here."

Alice took the credit card in between two fingers before swiping it and asking Maya to enter her pin.

The other woman frowned after glancing at the computer screen. She swiped the card another time. "Try it again."

Robotically, Maya re-entered her pin and watched Alice expectantly. She wasn't worried about the credit card company putting a hold on her card because she'd warned them ahead of time that she was leaving the country. She was, however, worried about the confused face that Alice made after checking the computer again.

"It was declined." Alice looked at Maya apologetically. "I'm really sorry, Miss Hart. I — I'm supposed to cut up your card."

"What?" Maya's hands gripped the countertop. "That can't be right."

"I can try it again if you'd like." Alice looked as though she knew that it wouldn't work, but was still happy to humour Maya one last time.

"Okay."

If she'd been anywhere but away from home, Maya wouldn't have cared about her card being declined. She'd had her information stolen before, and had been reimbursed every penny that had been falsely spent in her name. That wasn't the bad part. What was currently making her palms sweat as she watched Alice swipe the card for the third time was the fact that she knew she'd be completely screwed if it was declined.

It had taken her credit card company a week to ship her a new one the first time that this had happened, and she did not have a week to spare at the moment. Also, her card would be shipped to her Seattle address, not Nuvo Hotel in Calgary. She would have to give up her entire trip — her art — if that was the case.

Alice seemed to move in slow motion and Maya was repeating a mantra of the word please over and over in her head as her card was processed.

The receptionist's sympathetic expression said it all, and Maya didn't even object when Alice produced a pair of scissors and sliced her travelling monetary plan in half.

"I _am_ sorry." Alice's words seemed to bounce around an empty cave before entering Maya's ears. "Are you travelling alone? Would you like to use the telephone?"

"Yes, I — " Maya swallowed as Riley's face flashed into her mind. She _couldn't_ burden her best friend with this. The bride-to-be was stressed out and worried about her enough as it was. Besides, all anyone in New York could do for her right now was wire over enough money for a plane ticket, and Maya didn't want that. She refused to let her portfolio suffer because of this.

The idea of calling Becca left her mind as quickly as it came; her roommate was a drive of over eleven hours away. Besides, Becca's car wouldn't be able to handle the cross-country trip, and Maya wouldn't ask her friend to do that anyway.

Alice was looking at her expectantly, and Maya realized that she still hadn't answered the other woman's question.

"I would like to use the phone," she said, finally. "Please."

"There's one in the lounge," Alice said, motioning to an area behind Maya. "You're free to use the computer as well."

"Thank you." When was the last time that she'd used her credit card? Probably when she'd checked into The Sandman, but that couldn't have been when her information was stolen. It could have been anywhere that she'd bought food or souvenirs from within the past two days. She brought up a mental image of all the suspect middle-of-nowhere rest stops where she'd bought snacks and bottled water.

"You can't sleep here," Alice said, eyeing Maya worriedly, "but you can stay until you've gotten this figured out."

Maya wished that she was in a state more equipped to acknowledge the employee's kindness, but she simply nodded before turning away and seeking out the telephone.

In the back of her mind, she'd known that she would end up in a situation like this. She hadn't planned or even hoped for this, but somehow she'd just _known_ that she'd end up making this phone call.

Riley's words replayed in her mind as Maya dialed a number that she hadn't even realized she knew by heart.

" _I'm just saying that you're adding countless hours onto your trip, and that you probably won't run into...anybody."_

Maya knew that this was her only option — that there was only one person that she could call. But she really, _really_ , didn't want to call him.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Wow, okay! So that chapter was supposed to be really short lol. But I think that it's the longest one so far — almost four thousand words!**

 **I've had that last scene in my mind basically since the beginning of this story, and it felt good to finally write it. Props to you if you got the** _ **Clueless**_ **reference.**

 **This update wasn't my favourite though. I'm not sure how I feel about some of the writing,** _ **and**_ **I had to re-write the first 400 words or so because my computer shut down and I lost all of my work.**

 **GUYS Lucas is in the next chapter! Because (obvi) it's him that she's calling.**

 **Thank you to the lovely guests who commented on the last chapters! I love you all. Especially those of you who mentioned that you weren't upset that I went into obsessive detail about Vancouver. I've very much been enjoying learning more about my beloved country, though I myself have never been to BC or Alberta.**

 **I don't usually like to ask, but please review if you like this story. I'm writing this for me, but I'm really motivated by your comments.**

 **Thank you!**

 **-Lia**

 **PS: I didn't do any intensive editing of this chapter so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!**


	5. Calgary

Riley and Lucas had dated almost all through high school. Because their friendship wasn't exactly conventional, Maya had been victim to listening to almost every single detail that Riley offered up, and her best friend seldom left anything out. It hadn't bothered her too much, especially after she stopped _letting_ it bother her. Besides, she'd had her tough facade to hide behind back then. Also, listening to Riley recount her time spent with Lucas was often repetitive and formulaic. Eventually hearing the same story about the two of them holding hands at the movies and sneaking kisses when Riley's parents weren't home went from being tedious to mind-numbing. In public, the two of them had simultaneously been the most non-obvious and in-your-face couple that Maya had ever been subjected to. They'd hold hands in the school hallways but almost never exchanged secretive coy glances or had passionate discussions. They'd partner up for school assignments but would study in public spaces instead of using the excuse to spend time alone. They'd supported but never challenged each other.

Maya hadn't been the only one to notice when Riley's enthusiasm regarding both Lucas and their relationship dimmed. She was, however, the only one to realize that Lucas' attitude towards the entire thing never really changed; he'd always been comfortably familiar with Riley. Lucas had been a good casting choice for the role of Riley's boyfriend. He never showed up late, never said the wrong thing, never pushed too far, and he _always_ told Riley that she was right when that was put into question.

But Maya hadn't been able to shake the feeling that the two of them had been putting on a show for eighty percent of their career as a couple. Although they'd quickly shifted from giddy lunch dates to watching the news and spending family game night together, Riley and Lucas had clung to their relationship for almost three years.

Still, apart from the obvious, nothing had really changed when they'd started dating. And nothing had really changed when they'd stopped. Maya remembered that it had been awkward for a while, but that eventually the uncomfortable lulls in conversations faded out.

She hadn't cried right away when Riley had told her, but she'd cried at home later that day. For what, Maya wasn't sure. That was the last time that she could remember crying over something, even if it was as silly as Riley and Lucas breaking up.

She'd tried to avoid Lucas after that because she was sure that they hadn't really been friends before he'd started dating her better half. Maybe they'd come close to some kind of relationship when she'd _been_ Riley, but that didn't count. Maya stopped going to _Topanga's_ when she knew that he'd be there. She'd wait until the Matthews' apartment cleared out before climbing through Riley's window. She'd find reasons to spend lunchtime in the art room during the last few months of school. If she was forced to be in the same room as Lucas, she'd focus on something as far away from him as possible, and she never let her gaze wander.

She'd had to hear second-hand that he wasn't staying in New York after high school. It had been the day after prom, and she'd slept over at Riley's because they'd been out so late. Of course her friend had been the first one awake, leaving Maya to bury both her head and her guilty conscience under the pillow and continue smudging eyeliner all over the sheets.

When Maya had finally gotten out of bed, she'd trudged down the hall towards the kitchen, but had stopped short after hearing voices.

" _He just told me a few days ago." It was Farkle — he seemed to be chewing on something. Maya sniffed the air, deciding that Riley had made breakfast after identifying the scent of bacon._

 _Something — she wasn't sure what — in her brain told her to stay put, and she pressed closer to the kitchen entryway without revealing herself._

 _Whatever information had just been exchanged, Riley stayed silent in response._

" _I'm sorry," Farkle said, and Maya furrowed her brows in frustration. Sorry for what?_

" _I'm not upset." As a self-professed Riley expert, Maya knew just from that sentence that her friend was telling the truth. Though she still sensed that the other girl was nervous about something. "I'm sure he'll get around to telling me himself."_

" _He will." A pause. "That's not what I meant."_

 _Maya took a risk and peeked around the corner. By some miracle, both Riley and Farkle had their backs to her. Her best friend was at the sink doing dishes, and Farkle was watching from the kitchen table._

" _What_ did _you mean? I knew that he was applying to schools out of state." Riley put a plate in the drying rack and then plunged her hands back into soapy liquid. "Besides, this is a great opportunity for Lucas."_

 _His name made Maya's stomach drop, and she pressed a cool finger to her swollen lips. Feeling sick, she pressed her back against the wall — once again hiding herself from view — and slid to a crouching position._

" _Well, I just thought — "_

" _It doesn't matter." Riley sounded firm but calm. "I love Lucas — I probably always will. I'll never stop being his friend, and I'll support him — Farkle stop making that face. I'm_ fine _." Maya's friend took a deep breath. "Lucas has been given an amazing chance to do something that he loves doing. I would never ask him to give that up. Maybe there was a time when I would've, but that was then. We're not in a relationship anymore; I don't have to worry about him meeting someone else, I don't have to worry that he'll stop loving me. Don't you understand? I'm free of all that. I don't_ care _anymore."_

 _There was a long quiet then — not even a clank of a plate or a splash from the sink._

 _When the silence broke, it was Riley who spoke again. "And I really do mean that in the nicest way possible. I wasn't lying when I told you that I'd never stop caring about him, but — apart from being his friend — I can't plan a future that includes him anymore. There's nothing banking on us staying close together because the pressure is gone. I'm my own person now, not just a half of someone else."_

" _Well…" Farkle sounded as though he was unsure of what to say, but then his tone lightened. "Well, I'm sure you wouldn't be saying the same thing if_ Maya _was the one going to The University of Texas at Austin on a football scholarship."_

 _A sudden wave of nausea hit Maya like a truck. As Riley laughed at Farkle's observation and made some comment agreeing with him, Maya doubled over and threw up in the Matthews' hallway._

She had been the first one to blame the drinks from the after-prom party. Because, obviously, nausea was a side-effect of being hungover.

After high school, everyone mostly did their own thing. Both girls went to NYU — Riley for photojournalism and Maya in the MFA Studio Art program. Farkle got into Columbia and studied human rights and humanitarian policy concentration. Smackle was _also_ accepted to Columbia, but turned down one Ivy League to go to another. Even though it was an hour drive from the city, she attended Princeton University and was on the dean's list every year for her performance in all of her classes. Farkle liked to say that she was going to be the first honest politician, though Maya thought otherwise. Even Zay chose to stay close to home; he majored in public affairs and graduated from Baruch College.

The only one to stray from the pack had been Lucas, and he'd left soon after graduation. Maya supposed that the change of location hadn't been too much of a shock to Lucas, seeing as he grew up in Texas and had family there. He'd visited a few times, but she'd still rarely seen him. She remembered when Riley and her friends had dragged her along on a two-day road trip to Austin in order to watch one of Lucas' team's games. It had been mid-fall, and she recalled being able to see her breath in the air as she'd watched the back of every other jersey but his. Lucas hadn't known what to do with her once the game was over — after he'd hugged Riley and exchanged greetings with the boys. He'd tried to make eye-contact, and — when that was unsuccessful — he'd given her shoulder a firm squeeze. She remembered that he'd slid his palm down her arm in an attempt to give her a half hug, but she'd stepped out of his embrace, causing only his hand to linger at her waist for a moment too long. She'd been able to tell even then that he treated professional football the same way that he'd treated being Riley Matthews' boyfriend; full dedication only lacking passion.

Maya had been proven right when, one year into his university football career, Lucas had applied for The Killam Fellowship Program in the hopes of spending one year at one of his post-secondary's partner schools in Canada. Once he'd been accepted and transferred to The University of Calgary in Alberta — of course he'd chosen the most Texas-like Canadian province — he'd switched from professional football to studying Veterinary Medicine. After his trial semesters at U of C, Lucas had decided to stay at the Canadian university and he'd finished his veterinary studies there before permanently moving to Edmonton and looking for a job.

Riley had told Maya that he was working as a private practice veterinarian with some of the farms that he'd had co-op positions with near the Edmonton area. When she'd been particularly bored one day, Maya had looked up what that meant. Being a private practice vet mostly just meant that Lucas didn't work at a clinic treating small animals like pets and strays. Instead, he focused primarily on larger ones — like horses or cows — and was called to ranches and farms to perform a various amount of services for herds or individual animals. It was hard to imagine that Lucas spent his days vaccinating cattle and addressing preventative care plans for pigs, but that's what he did.

* * *

14 Days Until The Wedding

Maya hadn't exactly been looking forward to seeing him at Riley's wedding — in fact, she'd been dreading it — but now she couldn't think of anyone else who could possibly get her out of her current situation.

Although Calgary rarely saw rain, it had begun to pour after she'd hung up the phone. For some reason, Maya suddenly felt stuffy in the hotel lobby, and offered a quick goodbye to Alice before excusing herself and stomping out into the rain. Despite being content with standing below the downpour, she quickly realized that her art supplies would get wet if her bags were exposed to the water for too long, so she settled for sitting on some steps underneath the canopy.

The drive from Edmonton to Calgary took almost three hours and, knowing that there wasn't really any other place for her to go, Maya was happy to just sit and wait them out.

* * *

The rain was beating down even harder when she saw it. A blue Ford pickup truck was waiting at the intersection just up ahead, and Maya rose to her feet because she _knew_.

When she left her bags behind and stepped out from underneath the canopy, drops of rain immediately soaked through her clothes and dampened her hair. Still, she never once took her eyes off the truck until it had slowed and was stopped directly in front of her.

It must have only been a few seconds, but Maya felt as though she stood there for hours watching water splash up from the truck's windshield. She held her breath and blinked rain from her eyelids when the passenger side window descended, allowing furious precipitation to splatter into the car.

Maya had to have been subconsciously advancing towards the vehicle, because her chest was pressed up against the door when Lucas' face came into view. It was both expected and a shock, and her eyes burned from the intensity. As a reflex, she tore her gaze away, focusing on the backseat instead. It was piled high with stuff — travelling bags mostly.

Maya's expression must have betrayed her confusion because Lucas' voice rose suddenly over the pouring rain.

"I've made an executive decision."

She didn't ask what he meant, and she didn't look at him either. Maya continued to get drenched from the downpour, but she couldn't find it in herself to move.

"Maya." When he said her name, she turned her head and they locked eyes. He made a move to open her door but stopped short. She almost couldn't feel the rain on her skin now and wondered if that was because her clothes were too soaked to tell the difference. The windshield wipers sloshed back and forth while she waited. "Maya, get in."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Okay, so, NOW the story can finally get started.**

 **Let's start with the positive first.**

 **I really liked how most of this chapter turned out! I know that it was mostly a "look how they got here" type-thing, but this backstory is definitely crucial to the characters — especially Maya and Lucas. Also, this chapter is basically why I started writing this story. I'm pretty sure that the first scene that I thought of from this fanfic had Lucas picking Maya up in the pouring rain and saying that he made an executive decision LOL. And now you know that the Canada thing isn't just because I'm Canadian; it's because Lucas is there! What a Ranger Rick, eh? Going off to Canada just to wear even more cowboy getups.**

 **Now onto what's kind of meh.**

 **I really had high hopes for the rain scene because of how long I've been thinking about writing it. However, I wasn't too impressed with the final outcome, so be gentle in the reviews!**

 **Also, now that I've finally gotten to having the two of them alone in the car together, I'm not quite sure exactly where to start from here. Don't worry though, I'll think of something.**

 **Plus I promise to start including more dialogue and not just being in Maya's head 24/7.**

 **THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart to all of those who have taken the time to review this story so far. It means so much to me and it really makes me feel like my hard work is worth it. This story doesn't have a lot of reviews, but I appreciate every single one that I get nonetheless.**

 **-Lia**


	6. 14 Days

14 Days Until The Wedding

Their phone conversation had been very brief. Maya barely even remembered what she'd said to him. But she did remember how her heart had stopped when he'd mumbled an unsuspecting 'hello?' after three rings, and that — after hearing her almost monotone voice on the other end of the phone — he'd anxiously asked her if she was alright four times before she'd managed to finish the whole story. She'd explained why she was in the country and why she wasn't willing to take the easy way out of her dilemma, but she definitely hadn't been expecting this.

She'd barely been in Lucas' truck for three minutes and she already knew what his "executive decision" was. He was going to play the hero — he was going to drive her back to New York.

For some reason, this infuriated her.

Yet, as Maya watched him try to navigate the city streets in the rain while simultaneously attempting to ignore the fact that she was openly staring at him, she wondered what exactly she _had_ expected. Riley's wedding was in two weeks and (obviously) Lucas was invited, which meant that he would have headed back to NYC soon regardless. Maybe she'd anticipated staying with him up until his flight, rarely seeing him face-to-face and spending her days painting in Edmonton and nearby towns, settling for Alberta as the final province in her attempt at an adventure. But of course Lucas had complicated things. He couldn't just drive her back to his house and make sure that she had a place to stay — he just _had_ to save her stupid road trip too.

Hot rage was boiling up inside of her, and Maya wondered if it was powerful enough to dry her soaked clothes.

"Why are you doing this?" Even Maya was surprised when the words escaped her lips in a near hiss. Feeling brave, she kept her gaze on Lucas' face and watched as he tried to hide his shock.

"What do you mean?" He sounded like he knew exactly what she meant.

"Don't you have a job, or something? You can't just pick up and leave for a few weeks whenever you want."

Of course she knew that he had a job, but she liked to pretend that she didn't keep tabs on him anymore.

Maya continued to study him while she waited for his response. He looked good; she'd expected it, but it was still annoying. She couldn't help but notice that working outdoors seemed to challenge his body more than football did and how comfortable in his own skin he looked. _Super_ annoying.

"Actually," he glanced sideways at her, "I never work in July."

Maya eyed him suspiciously before tightening her ponytail and pressing her chilly hands to the dashboard heater. "That doesn't make any sense. Isn't the summer the busiest time for people like you?"

"People like me." He repeated it in a flat voice. "I guess, but…"

Lucas trailed off and made a strange face. It was a look that Maya recognized even though she hadn't seen it in a long time. Her eyes jumped to the backseat again and she quickly reached around to grab something that was poking out from underneath one of his bags.

" _Oh my God_." She waved the cowboy hat next to his face and Lucas' look of shame deepened. "You go to the Calgary Stampede every year, don't you?"

An odd energy started to buzz in her veins, warming her in a completely new way. Maya suddenly had the unusual feeling of being controlled by someone else — someone she knew. It was almost like expertly maneuvering her way around a familiar room in the dark due to years of practice.

Lucas seemed to respond accordingly, and Maya noticed his shoulders drop into a more relaxed position. "It _is_ the greatest outdoor show on earth," he mumbled.

Maya sat back in her seat victoriously, biting back an insult. He was so... _lame_. Almost taken aback by the thought, she was surprised to realize how quickly she'd gone from feeling scared to reaching instinctively for her old faux grit. "So you're just going to forego an annual tradition to drive me across the country on a painting tour?"

He turned up the heat when her teeth started to chatter. "Oh, no."

She'd been warming her hands again, but she whipped her head around to stare at him. Despite being furious with him for trying to be the hero, Maya had already accepted that Lucas was going to save her portfolio, and she felt an uncomfortable pit in her stomach at his words.

"What?"

Lucas' lips twitched, and Maya glared at him when she realized he was trying not to smile. "Are you kidding me? Tonight's the Heavy Horse Pull — that's one of the best events."

Her mind blanked, and her hand slipped from in front of the heater. "What?" she asked again.

"Well, technically it is only the light-weight pull."

Maya wasn't sure what to say, so she stared out the window instead. The sky was still grey, but she was looking at residential homes instead of city buildings. "We're not...staying here?"

"Tonight we are, yeah."

For some reason, staying in Calgary seemed like the worst thing to do, and Maya quickly tried to think of something that could get her out of going to some hick-fest.

"We'll never find a hotel," she blurted desperately. "Everything is all booked because of the stampede."

"You forget," he said, turning onto a more secluded road where small bungalows lined the street, "that I lived here once."

She hadn't forgotten that. She couldn't forget that.

"And?"

He pulled the truck up onto a driveway and killed the engine. "And I have friends."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I feel like writer's block always gets to me when my stories are just about to take off.**

 **I don't** _ **really**_ **have writer's block. I just feel a little bit detached from the story because I've been gone for so long. I've had such a busy week and I've been sick so I didn't exactly have time to write. Sorry that this chapter is so short! I just wanted to put something up while I had a little bit of time so that you guys know that I haven't given up and that this story exists lol.**

 **Fun fact: I hadn't always planned on Lucas and Maya going to a stampede event together and staying with some of his college friends, but then I thought** _ **YESS THAT'S FUN**_ **.**

 **I LOVE everyone who has reviewed. Thank you so much!**


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